Sleeping In A Chair
by lizzydhamp1901
Summary: There are three things that Dimitri Belikov regrets: a car accident, a memory forever lost, and a fragile girl in the hospital wondering about the handsome man she's never met.
1. Awake

**Rose.**

There's a man in my room. I don't – I'm not quite sure why he's here. At least, I don't _think_ I am, which is not quite the same thing, since my memory has apparently gone on a trip to la-la land.

He's sprawled out on a chair, hair messy, shifting every two seconds. Poor thing. He can't possibly be comfortable. He's far too tall to be in such a cramped position.

I turn the opposite way, not done looking around the white room. Suddenly, a woman appears in my field of vision. I gasp. She's quite beautiful, really, with long dark hair and big eyes. She looks kind of broken, though. Vulnerable, if you please.

It takes me another minute to realize that I've been staring at a mirror.

Feeling a tad embarrassed, I decide to stand up and give the place further inspection. There's a childish drawing on one of the walls, and a corkboard with notes stuck all over it. I edge towards it and begin to read.

Funny, everything is addressed to someone named Rose. I stop. Is this me? Am I Rose?

I may not know much about myself, but I know enough of the world to be certain that it is not normal for someone to be unsure of her own name.

I drop onto the too-large bed. Who am I? It's not a question to be answered with a word, with just the word Rose. Who am I? Do I like PB&J sandwiches? Am I a fan of old movies? What is my hobby? Did I have a mother? A father? Siblings?

My mind offers nothing but silence.

Who am I? And, perhaps more importantly, what kind of person am I? What are my values? Have I destroyed someone's life without knowing it? How is the world changed because of me?

Is it even changed? Have I made the faintest ripple in society?

I repress the unbearable urge to scream.

The man stirs, muttering something in his sleep. He must know me. If he loves me enough to sleep here, he knows me. Desperate, I go over to him and shake him awake, eyes pleading. "Please. Please, who am I? Tell me who I am!"

"Oh, Rose." He moans, bleary-eyed.

And I can see that he understands. I am not a word. I am Rose, but Rose could be a lot of things. "What is _wrong _with me?"

"You were in a car accident, sweetie. There's nothing wrong with you." He sighs. "Don't look so sad. You're perfect."

I'm suspicious. "Are you my brother?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Because that's the kind of thing a brother would say." I answer.

"Well, it's true." He says, rather defensively. "And I'm not your brother. I'm Dimitri."

There is sadness in his eyes when I don't recognize him. I apologize. He tells me not to worry about it.

"You're important, aren't you? You feel important." I inform him earnestly, trying to make him happier.

"I was important, once. A long time ago." He smiled ruefully. "Now I'm just Dimitri, the guy that likes cowboy novels."

"I'm sure you're very nice."

"Thank you."

We are silent, but, somehow, it's not uncomfortable. Either way, it doesn't matter, because it vanishes soon enough.

"Tell me about myself." I prompt.

Dimitri stares. "You used to call me Comrade. Don't ask me why, but you did. You hate waking up early in the morning, you're never on time, and you can always come up with witty remarks for the oddest situations, whether they're appropriate or not."

I nod, pleased. "Am I nice?"

"Well… you _can_ be, when you want to. Like when you meet someone who admires you." I frown, and he notices. "It really depends on your mood. Everyone knows you have a heart of gold, though. And you're very loyal."

"Okay. Okay. What are my faults?"

"You're impatient, reckless, and you can be very disrespectful – you always speak up for what you believe in." Dimitri smiles fondly.

"I love you." I blurt, then flush. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. It just… came to mind."

"Don't worry, Rosie, it's not exactly a secret." He takes my hand. "You've begun to remember early, today."

"This – this happens often?" I ask, horrified.

Dimitri nods somberly. "Every day."

The room spins, too quickly for my eyes to follow, though they try. Vaguely, I am aware that I am on the verge of fainting, right now. I feel nauseous. Dimitri takes me into his arms to stop me from falling.

"Rose? Rose?"

"I'm fine." I blink back tears. "I'm fine."

It's a thing to be sad about. A whole future, wasted. I have years ahead of me, but they are worth nothing when I keep forgetting my past. And my loved ones – my loved ones –

"Shh, shh, Rose. It's alright. Don't cry. Please don't cry, honey." Dimitri croons, bouncing me on his leg like I'm a child again. "Come on. You know I hate it when you cry."

I didn't, but I do now, and I obey. I wipe my face dry with my sleeve. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I understand."

"How are we supposed to be together, then?" I inquired. "If you love me and I love you but I can't remember?"

He looked down at the floor. "I don't – I don't think we were meant to be together, dearest, though God knows we've tried."

I break down into sobs at the awfulness of the whole situation. I love him. I love him. I may not have the faintest idea who he was to me before, but, damn it, I love him _right now_.

"How much time do we have? Until I forget again?"

"We have today." Dimitri says firmly.

I look at him. "Will you be here tomorrow?"

"I'll be here every single tomorrow there is." He promises.

"You deserve better than this." I whisper. "I know you should leave. I know you should. But…"

"But I'd be unhappy, then, and you don't want that, do you?"

I don't.

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, because he understands. "It's not your fault. It's not anybody's fault. It was just a car accident."

"Yeah, one that chained us to a hospital for the rest of our lives."

A shrug. "It could be worse."

"It could be better. Thousands of times better. You know it could."

Dimitri sighs. "Look, Rose, I know this isn't a good thing. I know it's not fair, not to either one of us. But I love you, and you love me, and that's the important part. It doesn't matter where we are, or what you can remember. Fuck time! We can live in the now."

And I agree, and I kiss him and do my best to act like I believe that everything is going to be alright. But, no matter what I do, I can't help but remember that the sad look in his eyes is eventually going to come back.


	2. Lissa's Terror

**Lissa.**

It's been a week, and a particularly long one, at that. The doctors come and go, moving around her purposefully. The whole thing frightens me. Finally, I'm forced to confess to Christian that, ever since the accident, I've had a crushing fear of hospitals.

I didn't want to tell him. It was our secret.

Rose is worth it, though.

She wakes up every day, and she's like a little girl – so lost, and sad. Very sad. Sometimes I hear voices coming from her room, and I think that this must be killing Dimitri. It must be killing him, because if it was Christian in that room…

But Christian's outside, and he's safe. As soon as Adrian found out, he came and refused to leave, even though we never let him go in to see her. It would destroy Dimitri. Plus, we thought it best to keep him in the dark, a futile effort to stop him from becoming a ghost.

And now they're eating in a cafe, all three of them faking appetites and laughter, because Rose has brought them together too strongly for jealousy to part.

I'm sitting here, next to her, in this most awful of hospital rooms, and I'm so terrified I can barely move. Not because I hate places like this. Not because I'm really alone for the first time in years. I'm scared, scared beyond anything, because I've never been here when she wakes up.

What if she doesn't remember me? I know she won't – she never has, when I come in after Dimitri tells her who I am. Then again, what if she does? Christ, it would kill him, and he's already half-dead!

"Where am I?" A high-pitched voice asks, shocking me into realize that I've been staring at my nails.

I look up. "Rose."

There's a moment when time slows down to a crawl, and we're teetering on the edge of a sword, two friends torn apart by too many things to count, and I hold my breath. I hold my breath.

"Who are you?"

I can't help it. I've never been as strong as she is.

I burst into helpless tears, just like I always do - only this time, she's not here to comfort me.

She's gone.


	3. The Purpose

**Christian.**

Dimitri Belikov is a changed man.

I swear, it's like there was this little light inside him, too tiny for anyone to see, and now it's gone, and he looks sort of… dead.

Adrian still looks at him like he's the luckiest man in the world. I guess he is, in his eyes.

Our table is quiet. We're all looking down at our laps and occasionally moving our food around, as if we're going to be punished if we don't at least pretend to eat it. The waitress is worried, staring at our table like we're going to take out guns and start shooting any minute, now.

It's depressing, really.

"What is it like?" Adrian asks. I jump, startled. Dimitri looks up wearily – nothing ever shocks him anymore. After all, for him, life can't get much worse. "Knowing she loves you? What's it like?"

Their eyes are so sad. A lump starts to form in my throat. If Lissa… If Lisa… No.

It's been a week since the accident, and I still can't get over it. Because, really, it could've been Lissa. We all know Rose was well aware that drunk was gonna crash their car into smithereens – she's always had the fastest reflexes I've ever seen. And we also know she swerved so he'd hit her side on purpose.

That's what's killing me. It was _on purpose_.

I think I'm going to cry.

"She doesn't." Dimitri says suddenly, like he's having some kind of twisted epiphany. "She doesn't love me anymore."

He gets up and leaves before I can tell him she does – she's just forgotten.


	4. Motherly Love

I remember the day she was born. I mean, it's a little hazy and everything – drugs, you know – but I remember it. She'd squealed and fidgeted when Ibrahim put her in my sweaty arms, and she was slippery with blood and other gooey body stuff, but she was beautiful. And when she opened her eyes, I cried.

She has those exact same eyes, now. Perfectly innocent, unaware of all that she has been through, good and bad.

I suppose I should be relieved. Rose doesn't remember _him_, and the absence of a future with him can't hurt her anymore. But what about their happy moments? The time they spent laughing, joking, kissing. The time she spent with her friends. Her childhood. The rebellious teenage years – all gone, gone forever, the doctors say.

Ibrahim is quiet beside me, a shadow of a man. He got to know her in Russia. My witty, sarcastic, lovable little girl. How could he help but adore her?

And now he's lost her, just when he thought he had her back. We've both lost her, and I could've sworn that our relationship was getting better, because I _tried_, I really did…

The smallest of sobs escapes me. Ibrahim's arm makes its way around my shoulders. I curl into him.

I miss her – God, I miss her. I think I always have, and I didn't know it, somehow.

Dimitri Belikov comes into her room, takes one look at us, and slowly stutters his way back out the door. Ibrahim has murder written on his face. At this point, though, I'm not mad – just very, very disappointed.

I honestly thought he was better than that.

Suddenly, Rose stirs, thick lashes fluttering, and I take my old love's hand, because I know I won't be able to look into those awful empty eyes without him.


	5. Waiting

**Adrian.**

There's no denying it: I'm on my way to becoming depressed. It's been two weeks, two weeks since the accident, and she's still here, trapped in this horrible psych ward, like a princess that took the wrong turn.

I mean, seriously. This part of the hospital is like something from a movie. Next door is one of our (many) resident schizophrenics, Bob. He spends day, night, and everything in between howling that the redcoats are coming, even though it's not the damned 1700s anymore. Then there's Hannah. She's forty, divorced, and obsessed with cleaning her room, from the doorknob to the curtains. And just to make the place even more surreal, this creepy little boy called Hughes refuses to accept the fact that he is not a fucking cannibal.

I can't stay here much longer or I swear I'll end up in one of these rooms.

The whole _Girl Interrupted_ atmosphere is getting to everyone, and Janine's got Abe trying to see if we can take Rose home anytime soon, but the doctors don't seem too excited about that. They won't stop poking at her like she's a lab rat or something.

And Rose keeps waking up, every single day, asking where she is. That's the worst part. She's not getting any better.

We're all waiting for something – anything – to change. Unsurprisingly, Rose isn't being very helpful. She remembers tiny little things, but only towards the end of each day, and by the time a couple of hours have passed, she's forgotten everything.

Deirdre's coming today, though, and that's really gotten our hopes up. Lissa called her a couple of days ago, and she thinks there's something new we can try.

And now we're waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting. I don't think we ever actually stopped.

Belikov's sitting here, right next to me on the uncomfortable hallway chairs, and it's taking everything in me not to think about him touching her, because if I do, I'm gonna have to punch him, and that'll just make him kick my sorry ass into oblivion. How could he? How could he do _that_ with her? Aren't teachers supposed to see their students as young and naïve little idiots?

I always knew he had a thing for her, but I never thought he'd seriously give in. For one thing, he's always been the most in-control guy in the world – and, really, statutory rape? Probably not his favorite activity.

Gross. So fucking gross.

He's a bastard, that's what he is. I know that he wasn't just playing with her, that they actually had something – I can't call it love – but he is still the biggest son of a bitch that ever lived.

And now, he's waiting right here with me.


	6. Hope?

**Deirdre.**

"So… what? You want us to pretend we don't know her?" Rose's father – a tall, imposing Moroi I'd just met – scoffed.

"Not exactly." I shrugged. "Look, I've been reading up on this since I heard about what happened, and I think you're kind of spoiling her."

"_Spoiling her_?" Lord Ivashkov repeated.

"You're making it too easy for her. You tell her everything every day, right?" They all nodded. "I think if you make her try to remember on her own – without having any idea who you are – we might see some progress. Or…"

"Or what?" Janine Hathaway demanded.

"Well, she might at least remember recent events. Like what happened, say, yesterday. We could help her improve her short-term memory, even if she can never access past events. That way, she could be self-sufficient, at least."

"She'd get to start over." The princess whispered.

I nodded. "Precisely."

Guardian Belikov regarded me closely. "And you actually think this will work? You're not just trying to make us feel better about all this?"

The bitterness in his voice was – sad. Pitiful, to be honest. Like he'd been hurt beyond trust.

"I wouldn't propose this if I didn't think it would be useful." I promised.

"I think we should try it." Christian Ozera piped up. "It's not like we have anything to lose. Besides, if something goes wrong, she'll have forgotten it by the next time she wakes up, anyway."

"For once, I'm with Fire Boy." Lord Ivashkov said. "There's really nothing to lose."

There was a murmur of agreement from the others.

"I take it you're all on board, then?" They nodded. "Good. We'll start tomorrow, then."

And, though I'd been taught not to get very attached to my patients, the looks of hope in Rose's loved ones' eyes still made me want to cry.

* * *

**Okay, I'm getting worried. You know why? Because this has more visitors than The Hunting Games! ****I think this story may be spiraling out of my control.**

**Anyway, review, please!**


	7. Try

**Lissa.**

They said I should be the one to try first. Cause I've known her the longest and everything.

Honestly? I think that broke Ms. Hathaway's heart. I mean, she may have given birth to Rose, but I'm the one that's always been there – for every fall, triumph, and broken heart. In a way, I know her better than her own mother. And that's really, really sad.

The worst part is that they were just starting to patch things up, after so many years of barely talking. And Rose had finally met her dad, which was something she dreamed of, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Anyway, I'm here, now, and everybody else is out in the hallway waiting. They'd be crammed into the room if they could, but there are six of us, and I'm pretty sure that'd give poor Rose sensory overload.

God. I never thought I'd say that. Poor Rose.

"No!" She gasps, waking up with a start. "Ah – I – wait a minute. Who are _you_?"

"Well, good morning to you, too." I say, not as sarcastically as I would've liked. "I'm Lissa."

Rose stares at me blankly. "_Okay_…"

I sigh, oddly impatient. "Look, who I am doesn't even matter. Can you remember your name?"

She shakes her head.

"Can you try harder?" I prompt.

"I'm trying!" Rose snaps.

And _that's_ when I know it's gonna be a long day.


	8. Raining

**Lissa.**

It's raining again.

It's raining again, and that's pretty fucking depressing, because nothing happened yesterday and now everyone's just moping around all over the place. And I'm here, sitting by that awful white bed – _again_ – because no one else can bear to do it.

I mean, seriously? Do they think this is _easy_ for me or something? I have to watch my best friend wake up as this horrible, zombie-like _thing _every single day!

I hate this. I hate it so much. And if it wasn't Rose… well, I would've given up a long time ago. But it is. So it doesn't matter how tired I am, or how heartbroken. Because, well, she was willing to die for me, and now… now I can finally understand that sacrifice. It must've been so hard for her, and I didn't know.

I vow that I will never have to feel that way again, because I'll listen to her, next time. If there _is_ a next time.

I glance at the clock. 8:13. Rose wakes up at the exact same time every morning. I watch her eyes open, blinking sleep rapidly away. She shifts, rubs her face, and sits up, leaning on her elbow.

Rose frowns. "You… I remember you. You were here last night, weren't you?"

I can't help it. I scream.

* * *

**They're supposed to be glimpses, people. Glimpses! Things are much quicker if I write this way. So I'll be updating more often, cause I have no school, but the chapter length remains. Deal?**

**Love you! 3333**


	9. The Best Nothing

**Christian.**

I'm bursting into the room the minute I hear her scream, panicked adrenaline winding its way through my body. Lissa's sitting on the chair, whole, with her hands over her mouth. Rose is staring at her, horrified. "What's wrong with her? What did I do?"

She fits herself into my arms, and the wet on my shirt makes me realize she's been crying. "Oh my God. Oh my God. She remembers."

At that, I pull away to look at her. "What?"

"She remembers. She remembered me." Liss sobs, and I swear to God that, though everyone's face is unbearably hopeful, the look on Dimitri's is just heartbreaking. Poor guy. I mean, on one side, yeah, she remembers – but on the other, she remembers _Lissa_. Not him.

Rose's most intimidating of dads grabs my girlfriend by the shoulders. "Tell me. Tell me _exactly_ what she said."

"She said: I remember you. You were here yesterday, weren't you?" She sniffs, and you can see everyone deflate a little, because, well, we thought she _remembered_.

"Oh. Well, at least her memory's improving, right? That's gotta count for something." Ms. Hathaway says.

"It's getting better. Her short-term memory, I mean." Adrian pipes up excitedly.

Dimitri looks doubtful. "Maybe she'll never really remember what happened before the accident. Maybe she'll just have to start all over again."

I notice Rose's puzzled look. "We need a doctor. Right now. And we need to discuss this outside."

"Wait! Where are you going? I don't understand…" She calls, just as Lissa is about to leave the room.

"Don't worry. I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

We close the door before there's an answer, huddled in the cold of the empty hallway where we've spent so much of our time. Ms. Hathaway vanishes, off to search for a doctor. Rose's father goes after her.

"So… what now?" Adrian asks, breaking the silence.

"Now we stop talking about this in front of Rose and do absolutely nothing until we talk to Deirdre." Dimitri says.

Lissa looks at him questioningly. "Nothing?"

Tall Russian guy nods. "We do the best nothing you've ever seen."

And, for the first time, I'm happy to wait.

* * *

**Ah, Christian. You gotta love him. Don't worry, guys. ****Your questions WILL be answered. **

**Can you guess who told about the D/R sex?**


	10. Uncharted Waters

**Ibrahim.**

I've never been one of the good guys. You know, the ones that are supportive and smiley and respectful all the time. Never got straight A's, or played sports, or took a girl to Prom. In fact, during high school, I was the kind of guy that stood by his motorcycle, wearing a dark leather jacket, and talked big to impress all the girls.

Still, I had a good mother, and if there's one thing she taught me, it's that a child is a gift you're supposed to protect. And I've always believed that. Always lived by it, too – Janine wasn't the only one who paid for that school. She wasn't the only one who worried about her lost little girl for two years. She wasn't the only one searching for a determined young woman alone in Russia.

And now, she isn't the only one who's hoping for some sort of miracle.

"…what I'm hoping you all understand is that we're in uncharted waters." The doctor says, pushing his glasses up his nose. "That Ms. Hathaway's short-term memory is improving is clearly a good sign, but we have no way of knowing what will happen. There are three ways for this to go. The first, and most ideal, is that Ms. Hathaway's memory will slowly start improving until she can recall her past fully and function normally. The second option is that Ms. Hathaway will stop forgetting events daily, but never remember her past before the accident. And lastly, Ms. Hathaway's short-term memory could merely expand into letting her live normally for, say, a week, before restarting itself."

We all exchange looks of dismay.

The doctor sighs. "Now, I'd like you all to remain optimistic. Either one of these options would be better than what Ms. Hathaway is currently living. I don't expect a regression, which means we can only go forward from here."

Janine nods politely. "Thank you, Dr. Stevens."

"I'll be around if you need me, ma'am." He replies, vanishing into the dark sterility of the adjacent hallway.

There's a moment of silence.

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starved. Anyone want a sandwich?" The Ozera kid offers, trying to be funny, I guess. There are murmurs of assent. "Okay, then. Back in a few."

"I'll go with you." Belikov offers, following fire boy outside.

"I should go check on Rose." Vasilisa mutters, heading towards my daughter's room.

Adrian takes out a phone. "I'll call Deirdre."

I turn to Janine. "Looks like we're useless, around here."

She gives me a half-broken smile. "Come on. Ozera will need help with the food."

* * *

**Answers = COMING SOON**


	11. The Regression

**Adrian.**

It's barely day three and I already have the feeling I'm gonna shoot myself if this goes on much longer. Lissa's the only one who can go in and spend time with Rose, even though everyone's dying to, because we don't want to overwhelm her brain with faces and shit. So basically we're all moping around that damn white hallway while Blondie tries to make small talk.

I find this about as entertaining as watching paint dry, and depressing as hell.

I guess we're all expecting a miracle, despite the doctor's words, because when Lissa comes flying out the door, the faces around me light up with a chorus of "What?" and "What is it?".

"She can't remember my name anymore." Lissa drops into a chair, clearly exhausted. "She's starting to forget everything again – I think it's what the doctor said. Her memory's obviously restarting itself."

There is about a second of somber silence before chaos erupts.

"We have to call Deirdre and tell her to hurry –"

"Shitfuck, I knew this was gonna happen!"

"Could someone please go look for a doctor?"

Finally, Lissa screams. "Stop it! I – God… I can't do this anymore. I _can't_. It kills me to see her like this."

Christian follows his sobbing girlfriend out the room, and I think that's when we all realize that, no matter how much we love her, spending too much time with Rose is not healthy. In fact, if Lissa's aura is anything to go by, it eventually becomes – well, depressing. Like everything else in our lives, right now.

"Someone should be guarding the princess." Belikov mutters, taking off after his charge.

"I'll go see Rose." Mr. Mazur begins.

"You most certainly will not, Ibrahim. Get your goons and go notify the doctor. I have to stay with Lord Ivashkov." Rose's mother, though shorter than her, is just as intimidating, and Mr. Mazur immediately obeys her. The woman then turns to me. "Well? Shall we go in to see her?"

I figure it can't do much harm – after all, she'll have forgotten all about it by tomorrow anyway. Besides, we're only two people.

I open the door gallantly. "After you, ma'am."

With a small smile at my ridiculous antics, the famous Guardian Hathaway steps into the room where we have spent so many hours of our time and starts to tell her daughter who we are.

* * *

**Answers = Not in this chapter but still coming soon. Hehe.**


	12. Hotel Blues

**Lissa.**

It is Sunday, 4:30 in the morning, and I am unable to sleep because of the guilt.

Guardian Belikov is, I know, sitting outside my door, as wide awake as I am. I begged him to rest, but he didn't listen.

He must be feeling guilty, too, though I'm not sure why.

God, I ruined his life. I shouldn't have told them. I should've just kept my big mouth shut and waited for Rose to get better. But I didn't know if she would ever get out of that coma, and what else could I do? Guardian Hathaway had freaked out when the nurses told her that Dimitri had spent the first two days in Rose's room, waiting for her to wake up. So she came to me, because she wanted the truth.

Yeah, well. I should've known better than to spill my guts to her.

Poor Guardian Belikov. No one will talk to him anymore, because, well, Guardian Hathaway spent around 30 minutes shrieking at him – and of course everyone else was listening attentively while she did so. So we all know, and who's supposed to be his friend now? Adrian's jealous as hell, Rose's parents are disgusted and Christian… Well, neither one of us can get over the age difference and just talk to him.

I mean, seriously. I can barely bring myself to call the guy by his first name – how in the name of heaven am I supposed to have a _tête-à-tête_ with him?

I creep to the door and stand there for a moment, listening. Good Lord, is he _crying_?

Before I can convince myself not to, I open the door. Guardian Belikov's aura is the darkest blue I have ever seen, darker than an ocean's bottomless pit. Darker than sorrow itself.

I place a hand on his shoulder, but he is too proud to look at me.

"Come on. We need to talk," I say, and he nods and follows me into my room, where we exchange stories of our beloved Rose until the dawn tints my windows red.

* * *

**So now you know why everyone knows about the cabin and hates Dimka.**

**Merry Christmas, people! **


	13. Forgiveness

**Janine**

Progress. I figured it'd come quickly – a shocking miracle, a wish on a fallen star come true, a cure for memory loss. Anything.

I know, I know. Was that naïve or what?

I was always an optimist, always a bouncy, happy, giggly kind of Scottish girl. And then I graduated, and things shattered. I saw death in so many different ways, I watched it take thousands of people. I cried the bitterest tears, because my fairytale…. My fairytale was broken.

To make it all worse, I fell in love with Ibrahim, who's kind of a mafia lord (only I don't know whether he traffics drugs, hookers or ponies) and what do you know? Pregnancy. Of _course_. And it wasn't even a normal one – no, there was some strange little problem that got me confined to a bed for six months and gave me the worst morning sickness in the history of mankind. And when my beautiful daughter grew up to become the wonderful woman I always knew she'd be, this happens.

It's like the Greek Fates are holding some kind of grudge against me! What could I have ever done that was twisted enough to deserve this kind of all-consuming pain? This… this _fear_?

Children shouldn't die before their parents do. I mean, I know Rose isn't in danger anymore, but when I heard, I was terrified into crying the whole flight to Pennsylvania. I can't – I don't even want to _imagine_ what it would be like to watch your baby slip away from you and go somewhere that's so far away, you won't be able to hold their hand, or kiss them if they cried.

So I waited for her. I waited and prayed, and even called my mother, because I finally understood why she hadn't wanted me to be a Guardian, why she'd done her best to keep me away from the schools.

Yes. I had to forgive her. Otherwise, how could I ever ask Rose to forgive _me_?

* * *

**Okay, guys, sorry about the wait! But, in my defense, my winter vacations mean family time, so that's that. And then the first week back in class was insane, because my friends and I were directing a short film for a contest and... yeah. Life happened.**

**But I'm back! So... review and express your anger/joy!**


	14. Lost

**Christian.**

Deirdre sighed, the speakerphone making her voice sound tinny, though loud. "Look, it's just like the doctor said. You shouldn't feel discouraged."

"What _should_ we do, then?" Guardian Hathaway asked briskly, looking indefatigable despite the dark circles surrounding her eyes.

"Try again." Was the too-optimistic reply. "I'm willing to bet that Rose's memory will hold out longer this time. And when – if – it restarts itself, then you try again, and again, and again, until it just stops happening."

Adrian and I exchanged meaningful looks from opposite sides of the little huddle that had formed around Mr. Mazur's phone. "What if it doesn't?" he asked.

"You count your blessings. Correct me if I'm wrong, but Rose is lucky to be alive, right?" Deirdre confirmed.

Lissa nodded, "Yes."

"Alright, then. Think of it this way: what's a ruined memory compared to losing her?"

Guardian Belikov – Dimitri – took a disappointed step backwards, because, well, Deirdre obviously didn't understand. As far as we were concerned, we'd already lost Rose.

* * *

**Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry for taking so long =( Forgive me, guys. I love you. I didn't mean to.**


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